


Interview with a Catfish

by RedCave



Category: Catfish: The TV Show, Interview with a Vampire - Fandom, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Crack, M/M, Online Romance, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:19:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedCave/pseuds/RedCave
Summary: Lestat is still a rockstar. Louis is still sad. Armand is still moody. Claudia is still creepy. Nev is your faithful love doctor, and Max? Max just wants to go home to his wife.





	Interview with a Catfish

The case began the way most of their cases did: Sunlight filtered through the hotel room curtains, catching in Max’s snow white hair as he carefully adjusted his camera equipment. Nev smirked at him, eyes alive with whatever unexpected adventure was promised in their email’s inbox.

“What do we have today?” Max inquired. What day was it? What year? How many seasons of Catfish were there? How long had it been since he had last seen his wife?

“We could have had it all…” Nev reads, trying (and failing) to hold back his excitement at such a dramatic email subject line.

Max, ever the pragmatist, was a bit more concerned. “That’s… wait, that’s actually kind of creepy. Are we sure this one is a good choice? The next one after that seems a bit more tame, maybe we should-“

Offscreen, the producer cleared their throat. Max went silent. Nev brushed onward, as if the interruption hadn’t happened.

_Dear Nev and Max,_

_My name is Louis and I’m from New Orleans. My relationship with my family is very strained because it’s kinda my fault that my brother died (long story). Even though I am conventionally attractive I am also very sad. For fun I like to go to bars but then I drink too much and start duels, which for some reason hasn’t made me very popular so I have taken to spending an inordinate amount of time online. My dad says it is because I wasn’t socialized properly, and also I am a harbinger of death, but whatever._

__

__

_I met Lestat on Instagram a few years ago. He DM’ed me and we quickly exchanged phone numbers. Usually I am not into guys like him, but he has a way about him that is just very alluring- almost aggressive. He helped me discover things about myself that I never would have realized. Like how Linkin Park is totally overrated. He also helped me deal with the guilt of my brother’s death. It wasn’t long before we started datin-_

“For fuck’s sake!” Interrupts Max. Nev jabbed him with his pointy elbow and continued before the producer could punish them.

_It wasn’t long before we started dating. My bffs Armand and Claudia don’t like Lestat, and even though they are really important to me and I value their opinions, the attraction I feel toward Lestat is just so all encompassing. I can’t imagine my life without him._

Max clutched his camera tighter, his knuckles now as white as his hair. Nev pressed on. 

__

_I have tried to meet Lestat for several years now, but he is a rock star and is constantly touring or in the studio making music, so he doesn’t have a lot of time. Armand says I shouldn’t bother with someone who has no time for me, but I can’t help it. I love him so much it is unbearable to be apart from him any longer._

Even Nev began to feel a wild sense of foreboding at that line, but he had to maintain composed for the sake of his co host.

_Please help me meet my hottie boyfriend. You’re my only hope!_

__

__

_Hugs and kisses,  
Louis_

Max sighed, and made peace with his fate. They were going to New Orleans. He was beginning to forget what his wife looked like. 

…

After a brief but informative airport travel montage, the pair (along with the omnipresent camera crew) arrived at Louis’s home. The house was, even by New Orleans standards, incredibly sinister in appearance. This did not bother the producer; someone in post-production would layer a Bruno Mars song over the footage and any dread the audience might feel at the sight of such steep gables would dissipate. 

Nev and Max settled onto an antique settee and tried not to stare at the velvet curtains. Louis himself was… not what they had expected from their brief pre-show skype interview. His black hair was on the long side and Nev was happy to note that it was washed to a glossy sheen. This was a change of pace from most of the adult men they encountered in their Catfish travels. As a matter of fact, that seemed to be the crux of the matter- Louis’ appearance did not match the juvenile voice of the email. This was an adult who, as far as the pair could guess, washed regularly and wore expensive looking sweaters. Max clung desperately to the hope that maybe, just maybe, this was a guest who had his shit together. Nev, however, took in the dusty foyer they had been led to (was that a candelabra?) and knew better.

“So…” Nev began, trying desperately to bond with this week’s guest. “Do you have a picture of Lestat?”

Louis grimaced. No, not grimaced. That was his smile, Max realized, as he accepted Louis’ phone. It was filled with picture after picture of a lean blond man. One in particular involved a violin. It would haunt them for years to come. 

“He’s not... unattractive,” Max helpfully supplied.

“Right?” Louis said dreamily. “He’s like an angel, offering an alternative to this desperate, meaningless life.” He did not notice the dead-eyed glare Max shot to Nev. “We’ve been talking for what feels like centuries. He’s just so cultured-”

“So,” Max interrupted, “you have actually spoken to him, then?”

“Our souls have spoken. On instagram, facebook, and text message. Sometimes he emails me his songs.” 

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Nev asked, scrolling through the email correspondence on Louis’ phone.

Louis had the decency to blush, his pale face deepening in color. “Such beautiful music…” he murmured demurely. 

The pair glanced at each other before standing up in unison. “Welp, I think that is all we need!” Nev said brightly. 

The crew had just finished packing up the camera equipment into the car when Nev felt Max tap his shoulder. “Who is that?” 

Nev tried to nonchalantly glance over his shoulder to where Max was gesturing.

What appeared to be a small child was sitting in the porch swing, practically draping herself over Louis. Nev was reminded of Shirley Temple. Max was reminded of an apex predator. They both flinched as the pair stood and began to make their way down the steps toward their rented car.

Nev grabbed Max’s shoulder. “Go,” he whispered. “Get in the car. Lock the doors.”

But they were too late. They were unable to avoid one last conversation.

The young woman- no child Nev had ever seen possessed such stateliness- walked arm in arm with Louis. They made an interesting pair. Louis was dim, but at least he seemed kind. She, on the other hand, had steely eyes burning with an intellect no amount of lolita skirts could hide. Nev and Max thought they could hear Louis refer to her as, “My sweet Claudia,” just before she giggled and tossed her shining ringlets. Max struggled not to gag from the passenger seat as they approached. 

“Who are these men, Daddy?” The girl inquired, pointedly ignoring them.

Max leaned around Nev to shout, “You have a daughter?!”

 

Louis, looking puzzled, shook his head. Claudia just smirked. 

…

Back at their (blessedly) velvet free hotel, Nev and Max got down to business.

“Louis has had interactions with Lestat through Instagram, I think we should start there.” Nev logged into Louis’ account (PointeDuLacking) and began to scroll through his conversations with Lestat (TheBratPrince).

It quickly became apparent that Nev and Max were out of their depth.

“This is… this is really messed up. Aren’t we mandated to report this?” Max said, desperation in his eyes. He missed his wife so much. What was her name? Penelope? Priscilla?

His producers made a vague but menacing gesture. Nev held his hand under the table, urging him to hold on, just a little longer. “At any rate,” Nev went on, “All the photos Louis has of Lestat are press photos from his band. Literally anyone could have taken these photos from online and passed them off as the real thing. Even the Instagram account is unofficial. I mean, Louis doesn’t seem all that bright, but a five year old could have figured this out.”

Max, remembering Claudia, had to fight back a wave of nausea.

…

After much deliberation (“I’m not going back there, Nev. I’m already an empty shell of my former self, but at least I’m still alive. The ratings aren’t worth my life. I want kids one day!”) they arrange to meet Louis and his bff Armand at a local coffee shop to discuss the findings.

Armand was a sour faced youth. Seriously, what was it with Louis? Why did all of his friends look like fetuses? Armand’s protective attitude could almost have been seen as comical, but Max and Nev had become experts in the dark underbelly of obsession, a surprising side effect of working for MTV. Wary, but more frightened of their producers than the sulky adolescent, they continued their interview.

Nev cleared his throat. “So… how do you feel about… all of this?”

Armand’s auburn eyebrows climbed up his porcelain forehead. “How do you think I feel?”

“What do you mean?” Max asked in stilted language. The producer shot him a glare of warning.

“Louis, why don’t you go get me a coffee?” Armand patted his friend’s broad shoulder. Louis, oblivious to the situation, shrugged and walked to the counter.

Armand leaned over, voice rough. “I love Louis,” Nev tried to appear surprised. “but this is ridiculous. Even if this guy is the real deal, which I seriously doubt, he doesn’t know Louis the way I do. Doesn’t love him the way I do, doesn’t- heeeeeey, thanks Louis.” 

Louis handed over the coffee cup to his tiny friend. Max noticed how Armand’s touch lingered. He missed his wife.

“So, what did you find?” Louis inquired hopefully. 

And he remained hopeful. Stubbornly so. He refused to be moved by any piece of evidence Nev and Max brought forward. The level of denial was almost praiseworthy, Max thought with barely concealed envy. Armand appeared to be restraining himself from running a victory lap around the entire state Louisiana.

“How about I give Lestat a call?” Nev said, trying to regain some control of the situation.

“You do that,” Armand answered shortly, while Louis nodded vigorously. Nev stepped outside, leaving Max alone with the two young men. And the production crew.

Max took in a deep breath as he tried to gather his thoughts. “You two have… known each other a long time?”

Armand laid a possessive hand on Louis’ sweater clad bicep. Louis leaned into the touch, completely misunderstanding the implications of the gesture. “Not as long as I intend to,” Armand purred.

Nev returned shortly with the news that, not only did Lestat agree to meet, but he was actually going to be playing a show in town that night. Louis smirked in satisfaction. Or at least, Max thought that was what his face was doing. There were a lot of teeth involved.

…

Lestat’s band was, apparently, quite popular. His story seemed to hold more truth than they had initially imagined. He had given them VIP tickets, so they (and the crew) had an excellent view of the show. And what a show. Lestat had appeared, glorious in the stage lights, like a benevolent god. Even Max, who had almost given up a life outside of MTV, began to feel his spirits lift. The world couldn’t be all bad, he thought, watching a half naked man prance about the stage, winking aggressively at the audience and, at one point, licking the microphone.

After the show, the crew was invited backstage. Louis looked excited, or at least, as excited as someone as tragically handsome as Louis was capable of being. Nev was trying to keep Max from fleeing when Lestat swanned in. He was still shirtless, his abs glistened with perspiration. Who knew singing was such a workout?  
He reached out one graceful limb to Louis, “My love!” Louis beelined to the blond singer, barreling over half of the camera crew.

“Lestat!” he cried, clinging to his long distance lover. “I cannot believe it! You’re real! I never in my wildest dreams imagined that this would happen.”

Lestat gently took hold of the other man’s chin, his other arm pulling Louis close to him. “Of course I’m real, darling. The only real thing in the world is us. You didn’t think I would come for you?” He chuckled, a noise that caused Louis’s eyes to flutter closed. “Sweetheart. I’ll never let you go now.”

Louis keened and buried his face into Lestat's glistening neck. “You’ve seduced the tenderness in me.” Somewhere, Armand begin vomiting profusely.

Nev’s mouth hung open in surprise. Sure, happy endings were possible on Catfish. They were rare, certainly, and the couples almost always ended by the time the show aired. The producers steadfastly ordered the camera to keep rolling. They knew this episode was going to make money and ratings. Two goth kids, creepily obsessed with each other? Add in the heavy petting currently unfolding in the dressing room, and no one would be able to turn away.

No one, that is, except for Max.

After years of planning, saw his moment and seized it. While the producer was distracted by the two supernaturally attractive men before them, he grabbed Nev’s arm and fled the building. Soon, he would be home. Soon, he would see his wife again. Soon, he would be free from the clutches of MTV.


End file.
